


When the Night Comes Falling from the Sky

by caixa



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Background Relationships, Carolina Hurricanes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hotel Sex, Implied Relationships, Implied/Background Kimmo Timonen/Teuvo Teravainen, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Light Angst, Mentioned Kimmo Timonen, Minor Sebastian Aho/Joel Edmundson, Multiple Pairings, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, but very briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:09:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22730002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caixa/pseuds/caixa
Summary: Western time zones mean one thing: Canes after Dark. Anything can happen, something will happen.What happens on the road stays on the road.Snapshots from a four-game road trip with the Carolina Hurricanes, focusing on Teuvo and Sebastian.
Relationships: Esa Lindell/Teuvo Teravainen, Sebastian Aho/Andrei Svechnikov, Sebastian Aho/Andrei Svechnikov/Teuvo Teravainen, Sebastian Aho/Roope Hintz, Sebastian Aho/Teuvo Teravainen
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33





	When the Night Comes Falling from the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> 69 points after a home win on a Valentine's Day, can there be a better time to post a little sweet dirt?
> 
> The title is from Bob Dylan, additional short quotes from the Irish hymn "Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart".
> 
> I rated this M but if you think it should be higher don't hesitate to mention. Feel free to point out errors and suggest tags.
> 
> Fiction is fiction. Please keep this out of the eyes of children or anyone mentioned below.
> 
> Enjoy!

**St. Louis**

_My victory won_

They lose.

They lose but before that, Joel gets his ring and Teuvo swears Sebastian looks at him hungrily. Then he remembers that Sebastian looked at _him_ hungrily when they hung out in his Helsinki apartment in the summer and he showed Sebastian _his_ cup ring. Sebastian almost picked it up when Teuvo weighed it on the palm of his hand, holding the hand out towards him, but drew his hand back before touching it.

It was easy to see that it would only have fitted Sebastian’s pinkie, if even that, because Sebastian’s fingers are thick and long, typical hockey hands, grown muscle from handling the stick since a toddler.

(God, the hands. One of the reasons Teuvo hadn’t lasted the whole summer apart from Sebastian, because hockey and pulling offers wasn’t the only thing he was good at.)

But Sebastian looks at Joel hungrily when he gets back to the bench after the pregame ceremony, and Teuvo wonders what happened on the bye week, the week Teuvo spent in Helsinki instead of Miami.

“What did you play for on the plane to Miami? I saw no money on the table in that pic,” he asks Sebastian jokingly after the game, jokingly because Sebastian is pissed off the way he always is after losses and Teuvo lies to himself that he asks it to distract Sebastian, to take Sebastian’s fuming mind off the defeat.

"It's not like guys are not trying or not working,“ Sebastian has just said in his post-game interview. “It's a little something extra we need right now."

To Teuvo, he mumbles in Finnish, “Why the fuck are half of the guys not working or even fucking trying? Everybody knows we need more than a little extra.”

Teuvo doesn’t answer. Instead, he asks about the card game.

Sebastian doesn’t answer, not with words. He flashes Teuvo one of his implying-everything-telling-nothing-smirks, eyes doing a little sideways roll.

“You want to get off on the details? You wish,” he grins and heads to the gym for the second part of his post-game workout.

Sweat out victory or loss, Sebastian finishes the day right.

Or, well. It may be the finish for the day, but it’s only the beginning of the night.

It’s typical that the mix of adrenaline and sore muscles keeps sleep away from many athletes the night after a game.

Sebastian sneaks out of his room and it doesn’t take much effort to get himself invited to Joel’s.

He looks at the ring on the desk, doesn’t touch it even though it calls his soul. He forgets his soul, puts his body in play instead. Joel’s abs are a glorious terrain for his tongue to travel south on, Joel’s dick fills his mouth, and Joel is so tall that he has to bend his knees to fuck him on the desktop.

It’s a flimsy piece of furniture, the ring bounces from Joel’s thrusts, rolls to the carpeted floor and Sebastian giggles as he comes.

* * *

**Glendale, Arizona**

_Thou my great Father, I Thy true son_

“Kimmo called the other day,” Antti Raanta says to Teuvo before the game. “He mentioned you.”

Teuvo’s stomach makes the stupid tumble that some people might call their heart skipping a beat but Teuvo always feels it inside his belly, the dumb giddy pride. It’s not like he doesn’t talk to Kimmo all the time; it just hits different to hear other people mention him, talk about the _two_ of them together.

“Nice,” is all he can come up with.

His former teammate tilts his head and narrows his eyes, just very slightly, and keeps his usual friendly, open smile on his face.

“You’ve kept going to his golf thing.”

“Yeah,” Teuvo says, shrugging, “I try to. Every year.”

“He must appreciate it. I couldn’t get the same weekend free every summer.”

Teuvo opens his mouth to say something but there’s no way to answer that. He resorts to smiling.

“We played tennis, too,” he says in a minute, regretting his words the moment they leave his mouth. There’s nothing _wrong_ but. Uh. There’s no point he’s making by adding the notion to the conversation, and he’s oversharing.

“Oh,” Antti says, nodding twice. “That’s what you both do, right. Nice.”

“Well, maybe we’ll see there next summer.” Teuvo should get to the guest locker room soon. “Kime4kids,” he adds.

“I could try. He has usually asked me. What hotel do you stay at when you’re attending?”

“Well, I’m –“ Teuvo starts, but suddenly it would feel awkward to go on with where his mind rambles, _I’m usually _(to be honest, always, since the first summer after the Cup)_ at Kimmo’s summer villa, it’s gorgeous and it’s closer to the golf court than any of the hotels, there’s sauna by the lake and it’s so private and peaceful, makes you almost forget he’s married and shit._

“Hotel?” He shrugs and shakes his head. “It varies.”

* * *

The first period is not a shambling mess but it could be better. They’re down a goal on intermission, and Rod tweaks the lines for the second. Andrei skates now on the other wing with Teuvo and Sebastian.

It’s been long since playing hockey has been as _fun _as it is after that, a new gear, a newfound drive for the rest of the game. Teuvo feels it as electricity in his body.

It’s fun because, hell, how often can you take your speed to the limit, certain that your linemate will not only follow but fucking _be_ there for your passes, and the other placing himself for rebounds with sneaky perfection.

Sebastian is bursting at the seams after the winning game, won’t stop praising Andrei in his post-game comments, and Andrei reciprocates.

"It's super exciting to play with those guys," he booms in his Russian baritone, smile sparkling from his lips up to his eyes, sweaty handsome cheeks dimpling.

Teuvo shouldn’t stare.

Sebastian doesn’t care if he should or not, he beams at Andrei with a look that can be read as exhilarated or straight out horny (it is probably both). And he is handsy, patting and slapping Andrei’s shoulders at the gym (finish the day right, Andrei follows the routine as piously as Sebastian), giving little surprise neck rubs, landing his hand on Andrei’s forearm whenever he wants to get his attention for some of his lame jokes or dumb remarks.

* * *

Andrei gets on the plane before Sebastian next morning hurrying down the aisle past Teuvo, maybe stifling a smile, it’s hard to tell.

Sebastian is the last to board. He slumps on the seat next to Teuvo, a tall coffee cup in his hand, sunglasses covering his eyes, a huge dark hickey shining from the open collar of his shirt (Teuvo won’t think how many there are lower, _under_ the shirt, and where).

Sebastian flips his damp hair (he never blow dries after showers) from his face, dumps his black Vuitton backpack on the floor. He takes a good sip of his coffee and turns towards Teuvo, bows his head closer as if to whisper secrets and talks. His voice is so hoarse that it’s incedent, too much information this time of the morning, Teuvo doesn’t _need_ the mental image of Sebastian having his throat fucked broken.

“He is so fucking hot.” Sebastian lowers his sunglasses to stare deep in Teuvo’s eyes. “Really, Teukka, so fucking hot. Remember how it was to play together? All three of us? We talked –“ Sebastian has to pause, the thought or a sensory flashback overwhelms him, he turns to press his back to the backrest of his seat, stretches his neck and draws in a sharp breath before turning back to Teuvo, bowing his head again like conspiring, “We talked how fucking hot it would have been to have you there. Man, we gotta try it. In Vegas. Say you’re down, Teukka. Please.”

Teuvo purses his lips to stifle a smile and pushes Sebastian’s bowed forehead back to the airspace of Sebastian’s own seat.

“Are you on drugs?”

Sebastian isn’t fooled, he doesn’t take his eyes off him, keeps looking over his black glasses, under his shapely brows, through his lashes, with that stupid pouty smile of his.

Teuvo grabs the bridge of the glasses between his thumb and finger and removes them from Sebastian’s face.

“And take these off, sheesh. You look stupid. We’re indoors.”

* * *

**Las Vegas**

_Rule and reign in me ’til Thy will be done_

Sebastian’s tongue is flat and wide.

It is flat and wide and soft, and its edges are wet on the sides of Teuvo’s two fingers where Teuvo holds them in a V sign to stretch Andrei’s hole open because Sebastian has asked him to. Sebastian licks a wide streak over it, and Andrei lets out a loud huff of breath, and when Sebastian licks again and again and again, the breaths escalate to moans. Sebastian’s wet tongue goes narrow and pointy and teases the round rim with nasty little flickers.

Andrei’s face is pushed down to the sheets of Sebastian’s hotel room, he’s on his knees in a helpless position, ass up, back arched down showing off his beautiful muscle definition, hands locked together behind his back with padded handcuffs.

He could probably break the cuffs to pieces without trying, they are a novelty piece that Sebastian got from some cheapo tourist store not far from The Strip, lightweight aluminum and baby pink fake fur. But Andrei won’t struggle against their restrain, however illusionary it may be.

Teuvo lets Sebastian take the responsibility of keeping Andrei’s ass spread and slips his fingers down between Andrei’s thighs. He rolls his hanging balls on the palm of his hand, gives little strokes with his fingers to the root of his shaft and Andrei mumbles something that sounds thick and Russian. He’s blushed from his neck to his hairline, earlobes burning red, almost translucent with the bloodflow, bright red patches on the neck all the way to his chest.

“You’re gorgeous, Andrei,” Teuvo says softly and curls a hand around Andrei’s cock, the other around his own, strokes them both. He sits on his heels on the bed, close to Andrei, one knee against Andrei’s kneeling shin, the other pushing under him, Andrei’s knee against his inner thigh.

Andrei opens his eyes where he has his cheek pressed down, his lust-glazed eyes hazy towards them, does he try to focus on Sebastian’s face dug in between his buttocks or Teuvo’s erect cock and moving hand, probably just letting it all soak in.

He may be trying to form words, his slightly parted pretty lips move, the lovely downward curl of his bottom lip is red and glistens with saliva.

A heatwave rushes through Teuvo when he watches the mouth. He wants it on him instead of his own hand, at the same time urgently but without haste: he’ll get it as soon as he wants to.

He already knows that before he even starts to shift over there, Sebastian will get up and put his dick where his mouth is now, and they’ll move inside Andrei in perfect sync, no words needed.

* * *

It’s a luxuriously long stay in one place: two whole days before the game, two after it. There is lots to do but they end up boning a lot, too, somehow the on-ice chemistry and the 24 hour party town surrounding them does it to them.

They may be planning on focusing on something else but when one of them starts shit, things snowball and they end up in bed again. Andrei making a sex bet about the card trick of a close-up magician who approaches them in one of the carpeted, windowless, sparkling spaces they wander, Sebastian sucking on Andrei’s earlobe when they are in the line for a roller coaster ride.

* * *

It’s a relief that Justin Williams nets his shoot-out shot. Teuvo would lose his shit if they had lost because of Flower’s dirty stick trick.

Andrei notices that it takes time for Teuvo to join the triumphant glee on the way from the bench to the locker room.

He puts his hand on Teuvo’s shoulder, near his neck, and talks into his ear in a lowered voice. “Forget that dickhead. Your dick deserves good head now.”

Teuvo is self-aware about how lame puns he delivers but he is quite sure that even compared to Finns, Russians must provide the lamest. No contest.

* * *

Sebastian smiles wistfully at his phone, sighs and puts it down. Teuvo gets a glimpse of Roope’s Instagram on the screen before Sebastian locks it.

They’re lounging on the bed of Sebastian’s hotel room after abandoning an idea of a short unwinding gaming session to cool down the off day. It’s the last night before leaving Las Vegas, their stomachs are full of seafood dinner and dessert chocolates (Rod and Bill don’t need to know _everything_ that goes down in Vegas).

“What’s up?” Teuvo asks.

Sebastian crunches his nose. “Vegas is great but I kinda wish we would have left for Dallas earlier.”

“Missing Roope hours?”

Sebastian pokes Teuvo in the ribs.

“Shut up. I know you have plans too.”

Teuvo goes for deadpan but can’t hide his anticipating smirk.

“We’ll see. How much energy do we even have after the game. If there’s another OT and shootout.” He shakes his head.

Sebastian turns to his belly.

“But you _have_ a date. With Esa.” His eyes are piercing which gives out that he’s not quite as nonchalant as he tries to appear as he starts to doodle a slow, absentminded spiral on Teuvo’s sweatpant with his finger.

“Have you ever thought,” Sebastian starts. He bows his head and tilts it, looking at Teuvo from under his brows. “What would you say if we made it double? I mean.”

He pauses like he had left the ball in Teuvo’s court but Teuvo won’t take the bait. He raises his eyebrow, forcing Sebastian to continue.

“You mean?”

Sebastian bites his lip, goes on with the doodling finger on Teuvo’s leg.

“Double date, and, why not if it feels that way, double hookup?”

It’s Teuvo’s turn to bite his lip but he does it to hold down a smile. He should have figured, Sepe is a horny little pervert and he has probably been talking about it with Roope already.

Sebastian’s butt tenses, Teuvo is close to laughing at it because it means that Sebastian is getting a boner out of his thoughts, he’s so _obviously_ rolling his hips against the mattress.

“Come on,” Sebastian continues. His energies rise up, he gathers his legs under his body, rises to sit on his knees, leaning to his straight arms, like a cat in a neat little package that hides whatever bulge he might be showing. “He’s so fuckin _tall_. I’d love to see you riding him.”

“While you guys are doing the same?” Teuvo snickers, “Gimme a break.”

Sebastian crouches closer, leans to his elbows now, looks almost pleading into Teuvo’s eyes.

“Don’t say you wouldn’t think it would be hot. Picture it. Everything we could do.”

Teuvo can’t help picturing it when he’s asked to so straightforward. Images of re-enacting so many porn scenes flood his mind, combinations of bodies in four-guy gangbangs, orgies of skin and flesh.

Fuck.

Fuck no.

It’s a tempting thought but – no. He pictures himself riding Esa on his living room couch like it always happens in those videos, and Sebastian straddling Roope next to them.

It would escalate to a weird competition of who lasts longest or finishes loudest or whatever, and it makes him a bit sick to think about it.

“Shut the fuck up,” he says and shoves Sebastian’s shoulder. “You two need therapy.”

* * *

**Dallas**

_Thy my high tower_

Losses like this gnaw Sebastian void of energy, hollow grief and rigidly withheld anger making his brain foggy, lagging. He doesn’t want to talk but he has to; being the lone goalscorer in a crushing defeat is more a source of frustration than pride.

He stays silent in Roope’s car, appreciates his friend not trying to coax small talk out of him.

If they met any more often Roope might take some jabs at him, chirp gleefully because he’d know Sebastian would rub his victory in his face just as obnoxiously if the roles were turned. But this is different: Roope’s quiet warm presence is an offer of unspoken consolation and Sebastian accepts it wholeheartedly, while still too sore to acknowledge it fully.

Roope blankets him in bed with all the weight of his giant body, crushing but grounding. He leans to his elbows both sides of Sebastian’s shoulders, brushes Sebastian's hair back from temples with his warm hands, his dreamy light blue eyes steady in Sebastian's.

“This haircut is so good. You’re finally trusting professionals like a normal functioning adult,” Roope says. “I saw a video of you flipping your hair like some teen drama TV star. God it was pretty.”

Sebastian chuckles, the physical weight of Roope on top of him somehow helping dissolve the burden inside.

“You look good too,” he says. Roope does, his hair has never looked bad in his life, it frames his face from this position like a halo, the light from above shining through the golden locks.

“I know,” Roope mouths without voice, cocky the way only he can, the way Sebastian wouldn’t let anybody else get away with. He leans down to kiss him, slow and soft, and when he does that, his curls fall down and tickle Sebastian's ear.

Roope finds his arms while kissing him, follows them all the way to his hands, laces their fingers together, pressing the backs of Sebastian’s hands to the sheets.

He withdraws, smiling softly down on Sebastian, the outline of his lips puffy, blurred from kissing. Sebastian likes the aura of soft fuzz around him now, soft, dream-like.

“Do you remember that one game on Nordis, Kärpät was visiting, it was one of the first times we were against each other after the juniors? We won and you didn’t speak to me after the game _at all_.”

Sebastian sneers, squinting. “Vaguely.”

“I had missed you.”

“Well you didn’t talk to me either. You were happy enough surrounded by a wall of girls.”

“Like you weren’t.”

Sebastian tilts his head on the pillow, like shrugging it off.

Roope rubs the side of his hand with his thumb.

“Do you remember how it was if we lost with the national team?” Roope asks. “We’d get under the blanket and play would you rather, fuck, marry, kill and smash or pass until you stopped moping.”

The memory draws a small smile on Sebastian’s lips.

“Yeah.”

“Who would you rather do, Jamie or Tyler?”

Sebastian chuckles. It’s difficult to stay sad with Roope for long.

“I’m not sure. Tyler seems fun, so maybe Tyler. First. Then Jamie because he looks like he can really fill you up and pound you down. Then – no, after that Tyler again. And _then_ the two of them together.”

Roope rolls his hips down, hard dick rubbing down next to his own.

“You’re impossible, Sepe,” he murmurs softly.

“That’s what you love about me.”

Sebastian is slowly inching his legs apart from under Roope’s body to wrap them around his hips.

He has a pretty clear vision of things to come in the immediate future. This is a great position to start with, then Roope can sit upright and get his thighs under his ass for deeper access, and from there he can easily lift him to rock in his lap, ankles hooked behind Roope’s back. He’s big and strong and so good at holding him up like that.

* * *

Esa fucks Teuvo holding him up against the wall, they shouldn’t have the energy saved for anything as rough as that but a reserve kicks in from somewhere deep within.

He takes an encore on the bed, pounding in from behind, and after that they lie down sprawled side by side, sweaty and panting. Esa bursts out a short joyous laughter.

“Oh boy.”

“Yeah.”

“We used to be something, back in the day. Do you think anybody knew?”

Esa extends his hand to the side to ruffle Teuvo’s hair but misses and places it haphazardly on his face instead. Teuvo shoves it away and giggles.

“I think we are still something.”

“But do you think they knew? In Helsinki?”

Teuvo exhales a deep breath, blows at the sweaty hair glued to his forehead with the last of the air.

“I don’t know if I thought about it. And now – it’s so long, I don’t care.”

Esa looks at the ceiling.

“Yeah. It _is_ long. Shouldn’t have mentioned it. Now I feel old. Five years.”

“Five?” Teuvo turns his face his way, not lifting his head from the pillow. “_Six._”

“Oh God,” Esa laughs. “Did I just say five years made me feel old? I guess I feel _ancient_ now.”

“Hey,” Teuvo says, “Seniority is power.”

* * *

_Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light_

Teuvo ponders for a minute if he should text Sebastian about sharing an Uber back to the hotel but decides against it. He may still be deep in the business with Roope, emerge in the morning, another sunglasses-and-hickeys spectacle.

When Teuvo's ride reaches the hotel, another car is just letting a passenger out.

It’s Sebastian, who reflexively turns at the sound of the other vehicle, and whose face breaks into an unhindered smile when Teuvo gets out of the backseat of his guy’s Nissan.

They point at each other and laugh softly.

“You.”

“You.”

It’s as good a greeting as any when it’s, what, four something AM and you have to be up for the plane home to Raleigh at six.

Sebastian throws his arm across Teuvo’s shoulders and pulls him close, and the wide glass doors slide open to let them in to the humming, polished belly of the hotel lobby.

**☆ fin ☆**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments deeply appreciated.
> 
> I'm [caixxa](https://caixxa.tumblr.com) and [ badhockeymom](https://badhockeymom.tumblr.com) on Tumblr.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [two friends but one broken heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27245863) by [caixa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caixa/pseuds/caixa)


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